Poet13's Blog

I keep my distance a subtle form of discouragement
I want to be liked but not needed.

I’m an emotional coward secure in my solitude
wary beyond my borders.

I’ve been in the trenches I’ve earned my scars
swapped valor for vigilance.

Open wounds closed heart no room for chance
all possibilities are fraught.

Such reluctance invites hostility
there are those who would drag me into the light.

They see in the shadows sinister affect
these dark contours only conceal my tears.

I give the good things more credit than they deserve
trying to make standard special getting by elevated to success
but hey every day you wake up alive right
avoiding most of the thousand hurts that flesh is heir to
acceding to acceptable loss.

Rummaging through a dust covered toy chest
in the back of a dark closet
pulling out puppets with happy painted faces
old playmates from a simpler time
a little nostalgia won’t kill you.

A little neuralgia may lay you low though
these talismans we have clung to
pretty palliatives for old aches and pains
this false sense of security is a daily habit
minor victories that wring tears of comfort.

we are trapped in a matrix of desire

the beast feels the need to feed

a tiger knows no renunciation

the eagle is unrepentant

the plainclothes angels who walk among us

mean to capture our attention divert our gaze

to give us a glimpse of some higher form

a glimmer of spiritual evolution

they wield blinding light that animals fear

they would probe us with god

we submit or we languish

but first we roar in anger and in terror

we do not understand what we are becoming

Take what you need and be merciful
the considerate and the timid are not recognized
everyone is happier when they know their place.

The power of benevolence binds us we dispense majesty and all are content
we devise a system of law and order to compensate for our failings
we know the right thing when we think it through but we have to write it down.

I will take up our burden to try and put things right
but I require your cooperation
I am no saint and this was all avoidable.

Just because you think of a thing
doesn’t mean you have to do the thing
the fantastic colors and twisted shapes
you summon from your depths.

An azure ocean roiling with blackest waves
surrendering on the shores of silver islands
where the people are happy and life is good
just as you imagined it.

These actions these results are unauthored
but true nonetheless you wrote this story in your heart
yet when it was broken
the people continued and the sun remained.

How little we understand one another
seasons change but things remain the same
winter gives way to spring which yields no hope
caution is a hedge against disappointment
experience teaches there is wisdom in the death of optimism.

No reason to feel bad about it no controlling the human factor
we are random and we are reactionary
we plan for chaos find it’s useless to resist acceptance
plans   fate   circumstance   protons    that     cannot      bond
matter dissolves energy is released life is created and destroyed.

We continue expanding right along with the violent universe.

it was a miracle for a moment
the way we meshed how we fit
like a puzzle made of liquid pieces
the contours always changing

shape shifters with blurry vision
trying to blend back in
we felt our way
recognized familiar profiles

                we kept reassembling a true picture of ourselves
                the one that most resembled what we could remember

In a brief moment of enlightenment
I take heart
put it down as an incorrect metaphor
there can be no fusion of biology with sentiment
still the light generates heat and that sustains us
we home in on the warmth with infrared intensity.

Such focus is revealing and instructive
it tells us our hunger is excusable
but it is an encumbrance
a burden to be borne by beasts
not a willing offering to enlightened beings
who have no further need of it.

time dies when you are having none
amid the agitation a kind of exhaustion
a peaceful repose leaning out

there’s a lot happening
some of it happened to me
some of it i caused to happen to others

now it all rushes over me
a big wind of white noise
scattering sirens shrieks shouts and sighs

a temporary shelter against a permanent storm
my mood glued with equal parts wisdom and resignation
as states of mind go i’ll take it

                                                          for now

in the morning when consciousness overtakes dreams
the day cannot seem to begin

fading images hover in the air a snug blanket of ectoplasm
benevolent phantoms out of place but welcome

like strangers bearing good news
an immutable message of inexplicable warmth

nothing summons the moments creep by in languid contemplation
i would rather linger in this embrace than greet the day

In contemplation he found welcome affirmation
In the application of commonplace verity
The uncontested reality of a solid fact
A firm foundation beneath his feet

The known world could be a welcoming place
Ultimately boring as hell
Hell being the endless repetition of exactly what you wanted
Heaven by comparison is chaos

Every known fact another brick in the wall between the two
He sought a kind of knowledge to supersede facts
The anarchy of pure knowing
A frightening prospect to one mired in myopia

His conclusion: the quantity of the quotidian strains
No mercy for those who cannot liberate themselves

the brain explodes with knowledge and wisdom
present tense seems very much with me
the orange room vibrant with energy
shimmering in waves of emergent revelation

expectations are high

the further they fall the harder they are dashed
i know this because I’ve tumbled over cliffs before
it’s a dizzy vision almost a cartoon
sketched to make me laugh at myself

i only like a kiss if it’s aggressive
more like a tender bite call it passion
call it carnal domination
that’s how i like it

i like to feel my blood rush to the surface
seeking to burst through mingle like osmosis
flesh to flesh predator and prey
the blood thrumming through us both

we try not to spill any but accidents happen
no real harm done no pleasure without sacrifice
so we give up a little bodily fluid
so what we all thrive on it

it’s a mutually beneficial exchange
it’s how we were first nourished
not our fault we’re forced to sustain ourselves
love is another way we sate our hunger

Every era shapes the danger it requires
the times call forth the monsters the times call for
we muster the courage we need to fight them.

We react we adapt to whatever confronts us
if we have no say how did we speak the words to summon this spirit
did we cast this spell upon ourselves?

Surely we know what’s behind the veil we drew over our own vision
these interesting times are how we try to awaken ourselves
when the magician stops dreaming the illusion will be revealed.

my religion is other my soul in question
i cede all power to consciousness
the body serves the needs of the mind

will is the spirit that animates my being
i am a god within myself
i trap the light no radiance escapes

my shining eyes are lies
my words ring false yet i am not evil
and i mean no harm

if i represent the fall of man it is a singularity
my story is inscribed not in stone but in my deeds
avoid my gaze and behold my form

it tells you everything but it means nothing

i want to ascribe a number to how i feel
dial it up whenever i’m blue
don’t want to think about feelings

don’t want to feel what i’m thinking
i want to run on automatic
a flat line lacks interest but it is predictable

you can see where it is going
no peaks no valleys to trip you up
no complex geography to drop out from under you

from a long climb there is far to fall
my body is worn and fragile
so i try to reason my way through

i’m not bloodless just bled out
i look to plans and other material solutions to save me
the systems i create are designed to relieve only my pain

any collateral damage inflicted is surely unintended
catastrophic failure is always a possibility whenever
we depend on the mechanisms we ourselves devise

like water the natural inclination of emotions is to flow downhill

the push/pull of the heart pumps streams and rivers of it

through a degraded landscape of veins and arteries

this eroded heart is familiar territory

cracked and scoured by my heavy thoughts

the earthmoving equipment of a mind running on gravity

we are like tractors towing massive loads of bullshit

far more efficient than hauling the unhappiness on our backs

I am ill at ease with my senses
I do not wear my skin comfortably
I fidget and fret
find ways to knock myself out
a little relief for a little while
sleep isn’t doing its job

the tangled knots tighten
wary and harried I distract myself
with this and that preoccupation
fumble through the lot
partial success is a lure
or a hoax surely a false hope

keeps me coming back for more
a nibble here a mouthful there
no nourishment no satisfaction
stopping is impossible
the mind requires motion
the body tags along

Which came first the idea or the need?
The mind manufactures desire even against the body’s will.
They’re inextricable which means you can’t tear them apart.
The meat and the electricity the action and the thought.
The impulse to appetite supersedes any reason to forgo.

Never too tired to sin I can do it again and again.

I know better which gives the experience added dimension.
The complexity is another tangle of fiber and fever.
I can untie knots or abandon myself tripping over loose threads.
When I assume a posture of devotion my back aches.
I can only hold this position for a moment before I fall over.

I value my personal freedom at the expense of your addictions
              have to remind myself it’s the holidays jazz soft and cool.

So what if I don’t care care gets you nowhere caring becomes crying
              enough tears to drown the world yet never wash it clean.

Keep it random keep it loose keep it moving sit still and you’ll go crazy
              the frenetic action is a distraction.

The silence is unsettling the scary quiet when there’s no one there but you
              somebody pick up a drum and get us moving again.

The only true intimacy I experience is in my dreams

Urgent caresses with the perfect person

Disappointed I wake to the stillness of an empty room

Muttering life is sometimes better in dreams

The sleep of reason reason enough to sleep

To wake rested and restored for what I am ready for

              Nothing new presents itself

Love remains hidden in the long shadows cast by a sinking sun

At night phantom lovers creep forth benign and unknowable

But in the softness of sleep their intent is clear

They are here for me they have come unbidden

That we may pass the hours of solitude in one another’s arms

Until they abandon me and I awaken restored and sorrowful

I cling to the past
I feel certain there is something important there
forgetting feels like betrayal or perhaps abandonment.

Life is one long process of walking away
turn your back face the future one way or the other
memory becomes an unwelcome passenger on the journey
a mute nag a silent rebuke hissing whispers of regret.

Embrace quasi-religious practices to purge it from your head
make an effort to master the art of selective amnesia
consciousness becomes a cure for everything outside the moment
the present resisting the onslaught of all time.

I make selfishness my means of survival
wrapped within this blanket of sentiment and nostalgia
I will smother to death.

Travel light and keep moving
Be grateful for the gifts you receive along the way
Willingly accept what you are offered
A cup of warm tea hot tears of gratitude open arms of welcome

Every step puts more distance between you and the danger behind
So you must leave the comforts you find along the way
Keep moving for you are the traveler
You follow the road that opens before you

Keep walking the path and know that it does not end
The love and hurt along the way will all be left behind
Darkness claims those who remain we go with the sun
An open heart and truth are the only gratitude we can show

he uses music to drive the thoughts from his head
he misunderstands himself no wonder no one gets it
the intensity of the signal garbles the message

you need a decoder to understand this shit
so he refines his terminology brushes up his syntax
tries to wring logic out of emotion craving the clarity that eludes him

          i’m trying to speak with honesty in my hands it’s like a slap
          it flares up too bright too hot without modifiers

          you can’t finesse the truth

every little thing disturbs my serenity
every thought ripples
i am not hungry
nor in danger of losing my life
but i am apprehensive
i am anxious
tranquility eludes me
in this luxurious state of mind i flounder
marking as progress my lack of flailing

not flailing is not failing
small steps
i think therefore i am not
i sit try to be still i breathe
the calm seems quiet too quiet
unwelcome thoughts creep in
i am unable to resist them
i am perhaps addicted to them
the silence is like cold turkey

I am trying to age gracefully
forget cosmetic surgery I prefer cosmic surgery
a self-administered procedure
in fact no one else can do it … only you
though you have no knowledge of the method.

But you know how
know it cannot be taught
are children taught to fear the dark
do we have to think in order for our bodies to age
it helps … but there’s no need.

Age comes come what may
the earth turns under our feet … we keep walking
keep time with our drumming hearts
eventually they wear out or we break them
or maybe someone does that for us.

However whoever whenever sooner or later by whatever means
the clocks have their say do their worst perform their function
this body too … until it winds down altogether
one last tock one last breath
hopefully a contented sigh.

I’m tired of supporting bad behavior
i can no longer enable these cunning tactics
the unconscious conduct that forms a personality
the early aches and pains the kinks that warp the framework
constricting the heart a self-protective reflex turning muscle to iron
a rebar foundation for the twisted lattice of the central nervous system
a bundle of ganglia knotted with cystic cells blemishes on the soul.

The mind is only the middleman
the orders come down from above the impulses bubble up from below
we stew in juices whipped up according to our own recipe meals of our own making
we set the table exactly the same every time make it a pretty picture of perfection
we serve ourselves again and again a feast we cannot stomach
we are bloated and malnourished starved for the authenticity of one clear moment
one full breath one true thing we can know and then let go.

Resentment is my constant companion
imaginary hurts one part spiteful gesture one part indifference
plotting and planning scheming and dreaming
purple packages tied up with black ribbon
vindication and comeuppance heroic scenarios
where i’m the smartest guy in the room
and i make myself understood.

I’d swap understanding for love any day of the week
you don’t have to fuck me just say you get me
let’s forgive the hurts so we can forget what hurts
let’s meet again start fresh like we don’t know each other
try to get it right this time.

Alone with your unvarnished thoughts
unbidden and unexpected the truth comes at you
summons your strength even against your will.

Life has a way of engaging you entangling you knocking you off stride
no one here leaves unscathed no spectators in the game of life
everyone plays there are no cozy retreats no quiet places.

The house we built requires constant maintenance the warmth in winter is conditional
comfort is a luxury and a trap relax at your peril the doors open and close
no one stays for long.

Bad news is good news when it reminds you to feel the pain tells you you are alive
at least you see the truth with cool clarity and long for the heat of others
fear stifles hope confidence is shaken no love without sacrifice.

i am a genetic uprising against the status quo
i am the monster in your midst
i conceal myself in order to survive

if you see me as i really am you will recoil
or react with unquestioned motivation
do what’s right for the betterment of all

call on your doubtless faith for god’s sake
innocent or not i will burn
consigned to flames by majority rule

i have no words to explain only howls of frustration
my pyre lights your town square turning darkness into right
the scarlet horizon affirming a foul thing’s sacrificial gesture

I’m in a winter frame of mind on a summer day

the time of the season between phases of the moon

the sun is weaker now the solar rays making gray days

and memory casts long shadows over the landscape

illuminating trails not taken and pathways too well traveled

melodies fading like echoes of other lives we never lived

somewhere along these rutted roads we wandered away

into other lands where the lost are found

and the summer places we left behind are silent